Insert Creative Title Here
by AvengerSpawn
Summary: This is something that we (five friends and fans of The Avengers) have been working on for a few months. We're just derping around, but we thought that this would make for an interesting story. No OC pairings, and no shipping, so if you're here for romance, you might want to leave. But if you want a good laugh, here you are! Just make sure that you leave a review!
1. Chapter 1

**Note from LuluCalliope: This is something that we (all of the members of the AvengerSpawn) have been working on since the beginning of the year. We know that it's just us derping around, but we'd appreciate any feedback. Please review. I know that this chapter is short, but longer ones are to come, I promise.**

Prologue (Meredith)

I've only been on a helicopter once or twice before, and my dad was with me both of those times. (We were on one when we were dragged out of Calcutta by Natasha and the rest of SHIELD.) But he isn't here now. Tony Stark and Steve Rogers are here, along with Agent Phil Coulson and three totally weird strangers. They're not from around here…they look like they're going to a Halloween party or the opera. One of them is a girl about my age. She called Tony (also known as Iron Man) her "mom" at one point. Okay…whatever, I'm not even going to go there.

There's also this really tall muscular blond man. He's like the good-looking version of Shaggy from Scooby-Doo…only more bad-ass. He's holding this giant hammer thing, and I am afraid that he'll try to crush somebody's skull with it. That would be a problem, at the very least.

We're taking his brother, the other man—Loki—back as our prisoner. He's the one who has been trying to take over the world and enslave mankind. He doesn't look too menacing or dangerous, I think. He actually looks…kind of handsome. He has long, jet black hair that passes over his shoulders, haunting green eyes and angular cheekbones that show off his white skin. He looks very surly, but at the same time, so…sexy.

Oh, great. He catches me staring at him, and favors me with a wink. I feel my cheeks growing hot. I must resist the urge to smile at him shyly. I must ignore the desire to make out with Loki—

"You want to do WHAT with my father?"

Oh, no. Did I say that last part out loud? I must have. Why else would the grouchy girl be glaring at me? I clear my throat, trying hard to pretend that my cheeks are not crimson. "I—I said…thank God…that we ended up lucky?" All right, that was the worst cover-up in the history of bad cover-ups. I seriously just want to HIDE from how awkwardly bad that sounded.

The girl rolls her eyes and slouches over in her seat. "Parents with children should not be allowed to date," she laments. I decide to change the subject.

"I'm Meredith Banner," I say to her, holding out my hand for her to shake. She stares at it like it's a poisonous snake for about thirty seconds. I hope I haven't offended her. Maybe shaking hands is a rude gesture wherever she comes from?

"Thalia Lokison," she curtly replies when she finally takes my extended hand in hers.

"Cool," I say warmly, smiling at her.

"Whatever," she mumbles, shooting the floor a cold glare.

Everyone is quiet for the rest of the ride, but not totally silent. Phil tries to get Steve to sign his Captain America card collection. (He's an even bigger nerd than I am sometimes.) Thalia starts talking with her "mom" and "Uncle Thor". And as I sit under the penetrating stare of Loki, all I can wonder is…

…why does our greatest threat have to be so unbelievably hot?

* * *

_I know that this is pretty short, but trust me, longer chapters are ahead! Review, please!_


	2. Thalia Made a Chapter

**Okay, hey. Sorry about the epic delay between chapters, I don't get a lot of time to upload stuff, that and I have my own fanfiction to manage.**

**Anyway, here is Thalia, hating the world as she always does.**

* * *

Okay, first of all, Midgard sucks ass. I hate it here, and I can't wait until my father takes it over so that I can do whatever I want with the stupid mortals that run around like someone has chopped their heads off. I mean seriously, these mortals are more stupid than Thor. Until I got here, I didn't think that was even possible.

Hello, my name is Thalia Lokison, daughter of Loki Laufeyson, who is currently in the process of taking over the world. My father is a god, but I am only a demi-god (the reason for that is not as self-explanatory as it seems, as I was not born like most people/demi-gods/whatevers), and so I do not possess as great powers as he does.

I am currently pretending to be a friend of the Avengers. I'm not. The Avengers suck ass. My current situation in life _sucks ass_ but there's nothing I can do about it, unless I want to be caged up like my father.

Well, he's not caged up yet, but the Avengers are planning on caging him up. I can't warn him (not that he'd need it, he's smart enough to figure out how to escape them.

Anyway, I'm pretending to be friends with the Avengers's spawn. There are three of them: Natalia, Claire, and Meredith, and of all of them, I'm the least annoying.

Seriously. They piss me off and if it weren't for the fact that I'd probably get fried for doing so, I'd shank them in a heartbeat.

Claire's a spazz, Meredith has a creeps ass crush on my father (who the fuck does that kind of thing, anyway?) and Natalia… well, she creeps me out. She's got two different coloured eyes, and she'll stare at you like she's slowly piecing apart your _soul_ or something.

Anyway, I'm stuck in Midgard. On a flying boat (what the fuck, boats don't fly). With my mother (who is actually a man, named Tony Stark. Again, I was born in a weird way). And three girls. Who are all friends. And are trying to get along with me, even though I'm _not at all interested_ in being friends with them. I want to be alone, but unfortunately, mortals are social people.

I hate my life.

But, since I'm writing anyway, might as well explain the whole Stark-Loki thing. So, about ten-eight-ish years ago, Tony Stark and my father were in the same room. I don't know why. They just were. And so, my father's magic decided to spazz out, and then _BOOM! _magical Thalia baby is born. There's not logic behind it, just magic.

So… I guess my life was screwed over from the day I was created as a seven year-old. Seriously, I was born, not as a baby, but as a seven year old girl with black hair and green eyes to match her father's. Well, actually, my eyes are Tony's colour. But I use my magic to make them green.

I don't want anything to do with Tony Stark; being in the Avengers is bad enough without my mom riding my ass about every little thing. Because mortal moms are like that. They ride your ass over everything.

* * *

**Okay, chapter over. Please review.**

**Oh, and I am currently having technical difficulties downloading music to use for my photography video preject, so have a keyboard smash of my ragings: asgh ailrughilaufhuilsdhlf.**

**Okay, I'm done.**

**-Chella. D**


	3. Duct-Tag and Exasperation

When I woke up this morning I couldn't breathe. I had a nightmare. Ironically, it was about not being able to breathe. I couldn't inhale; I couldn't open my mouth; I couldn't move. It felt like my body was made of rock, and I literally did not have the ability to shift any of my limbs from where they had frozen. Something was shining in the distance. I was pretty sure I was dying. It felt like I was underwater…. really far underwater, so that the pressure forced my chest down and wouldn't let me take in the air miles above my head. At the same time, though, it felt like skydiving. The adrenaline, the loud rush, the wind. The wind in particular was confusing. Like I said before, everything but one really far away point was dark and it felt like I was underwater, but water doesn't have wind. Oh well. I guess it doesn't really matter.

I wasn't actually scared, after all. 'Course I wasn't scared. Fright is for lesser agents. The real Natalia Romanov doesn't get scared. Well, that's not my real name, but… like I'm going to tell you what it really is.

WELL, after that my day just went from bad to worse. Not that the dream was bad or anything. No. I'm not saying at all that I'm most afraid of suffocating to death. Nope! Not at all. Not saying that in the least.

Point is, my day got worse, though not immediately. First I did my customary morning workout, then did duct-tag with Claire, then walked to breakfast competing to see who freaked the most junior agents out (extra point for the older ones… though not Agent Kelly. Agent Kelly is a balding old man in who jumps at the slightest sound and works in engineering. Director Fury said if we gave Agent Kelly one more panic attack we'd be off the helicarrier. Claire and I had extra fun working out later since we have several hundred "Director Furry" photos (Fury's face Photoshop-ed onto the body of an orangutan) and happily tape them to targets when he instates a policy we find disagreeable.

A note on duct-tag. It's a fairly simple game, you see. All you need is air ducts, sewers, a giant hamster cage, a McDonald's' (or any fast-food franchise, really) playground, or really any sort of maze that involves multiple levels and tiny areas, preferably tubes of some sort. It just so happens that the helicarrier has air and security ducts that fit the bill perfectly. Proceed by playing with regular tag rules. Or, to make it extra fun, play in the security ducts at SHEILD. They're trick air-ducts that are larger than normal air-ducts used to trap people who think sneaking around on a secret government agency's floating (in more ways than one) fortress looking for ultra-top-secret's-secrets is an enjoyable pass time. Like me. It hasn't managed to trap me yet, though. Claire once got caught by a small electrified net… but in her defense, there was a plate of freshly baked cookies in the room below, which she proceeded to get after she finished flopping around like a fish. It wasn't worth the couple hundred volts, though. They were oatmeal raisin cookies.

Anyway, when we reached the cafeteria, or as I like to call it the the "mother-of-all-messes-hall", THAT'S when things got bad. Meredith Banner was there. She's a very chipper person. I don't. Like. Chipper. I don't like the word, I don't like the idea, I don't like the attitude, and I don't like the person. _Especially_ not the person. There's even an Agent Chipper in the R&D Department on level eight; I hate her. She's one of the few people who can hold up under my multi-hued stare and still retain the ability to speak, much less _laugh_.

Anyway, Meredith and her relentlessly sunny personality immediately got on my nerves. Actually, she got on them, took a cheese grater with her, and rubbed each individual nerve until it was nothing but a bunch of splinters then moved on to the next one. And she was assisted by Claire who was infected by her cheer and proceeded to have a decent conversation.

Sigh. At least Thalia seems to have a head on shoulders. Even if she does cuss a lot.

She dresses in all green and black (a nod to one of her fathers, perhaps? Oh, who am I kidding? That has "Loki's Spawn" graffitied all over it!) and glowers. Seriously. _Glowers_. I'm the only teenager (who cares if I'm only a teenager barely and this chick is obviously a good three to four years older than me) who can glower well around here! Heck, Natasha, Fury, and I are the only ones who glower at all! Everyone else is too 'nice' or 'well-mannered' or 'doesn't-want-to-sass-their-big-ass-scary-secret-agency-employer'. Pfft.

Anyway. She seems a little bit too much like me. Except _without_ a line in the sand with a huge "DO NOT CROSS" sign next to it. Does she have any morals? I know mine aren't the best, but, I mean, really? It… it just… she seems like the kind of person I could easily become comrades with (I don't have _friends_), but as it seems she is speeding toward my nerves with a chainsaw in hand quite determined to cut down the final one that Meredith and Claire have seemingly left standing just so Thalia can mutilate it into nonexistence, I doubt this is to be so.


	4. Meredith's second chapter

**(psst... this author's note is from Chella instead of Lulu b/c I have the jumpdrive with the chapters and I feel like updating. The chapter, however, is written completely by Lulu.)**

**Yes, so please read and leave a review. Very much appreciated.**

* * *

Chapter Three (Meredith)

It's so bright and sunny outside, and I'm wishing for a little rain. I'm bored out of my mind, which is saying something, considering that I'm the daughter of a man who gets a dark green complexion when he's angry. But I digress.

Yesterday was August 8th. It would have been my parents' nineteenth wedding anniversary if my mother was still alive. She married my father on the eighth day of the eighth month, and I think that's considered lucky in some cultures. But don't quote me on that. I don't believe in luck, by the way. It's all about being at the right place at the right time. But things like fate and destiny often spring up whenever I think about luck, and I don't like thinking about them. That's depressing…and I don't like thinking about depressing things. My father doesn't, either.

My dad does believe that you have to listen when the universe speaks. Yes, as crazy as that sounds, that's what he actually believes. He was once walking through a field at night. He stopped for no reason, looked down, and saw a four-leaved clover. He uses it as a bookmark now. Another night, he was with four friends. He shouted, "Look!" and pointed up at the sky. A shooting star streaked across it in that moment. It's kind of a weird belief, but if it makes sense to him, then more power to him.

My poor old man looks and acts like he's been through Hell. And he has, with the divorce and the death and super-strength powers. He's an ultra-strong mega-nerd…the only one in existence, I think. And a lot of those qualities have rubbed off on me. I'm a chip off the old block, and I guess that's why nobody really had objections to me tagging along with him to this super-secret organization. (I guess it won't be a secret if I keep writing about this, but nobody's going to read this. And even if someone did, he or she wouldn't believe me.)

"Meredith, are you planning on writing 'War and Peace'? Put down that diary and pay attention to your lessons!" That's my dad, the famous Dr. Bruce Banner. He keeps trying to show me around his lab and give me a lesson on the history of selenium, but I can't concentrate. In spite of all the crazy crap that's been going on, I keep thinking about the regular aspects of my life. I miss most of them. It's been a while since we've lived in a regular house. But there's one thing in particular that needs to be addressed…

"Dad," I say calmly, "I don't want my driver's license."

He looks up and raises an eyebrow quizzically. "Why don't you?"

"We live in New York. No one drives in New York because of all the traffic."

"But what about when you decide to go to college? If you want to go to a school in, I don't know, Georgia or California—"

"I don't want to go out of state," I remind him. "And there's traffic in Georgia and California, too." (There's Honey Boo-Boo Child in Georgia and there are earthquakes in California. I'm not leaving New York, end of story.)

My dad sighs, and I realize that he looks really tired. He's at the end of his rope, and I'm probably not helping. I hastily ask, "Want some coffee? I was going to go get some."

He smiles and relaxes a little. "That would be lovely. But can we talk about driving later?"

"Of course," I say, heading out. I walk past a shiny piece of equipment, and I slow down my pace that I can study my reflection. I look very demure, but my eyes have a lot of intensity contained within their depths. I think that comes from my father, but I have my mom's hair color. I try to keep my wavy brown locks out my face, but it's difficult to wrestle these stubborn strands into a ponytail. I shake my head free of all these petty thoughts and go to hunt down the coffee machine.

I return with coffee a few minutes later. My dad accepts his drink with a smile, and he continues the lesson. (In case you can't tell, I'm homeschooled.) I'm not really into science as much as he is…I like reading, writing, watching movies, and talking. Even though we're both very quiet people, I'm more outgoing than he is. But that's not saying much. I'm still very reserved. But I'm open with my friends. I can tell them anything, and they can tell me anything. I can depend on them, and they can depend on me. (At least, I think that's how it works…with some of them, I'm not quite sure.)

Dad isn't really happy here, and I feel sorry for him. But at the same time, I think that he really should be a part of this team…the Avengers. It's so exciting for him, or at least it should be. And I'm finally getting the chance to interact with people my age. Things are finally starting to look up, and I hope that nothing goes wrong now.

"Meredith, put down the darn diary and pay attention! What have I been saying?"

Goodbye, dear book. I must leave you for my boring lesson in chemistry. Parting is such sweet sorrow…ah, screw it. When my dad turns his back, I'm going to keep writing…

* * *

**End chapter. That is all.**


End file.
